What difference would it make for Old Testament theology if we turned our attention from the more dramatic, forceful "mighty acts of God" to the more subdued, but more realistic themes of later writings in the Hebrew Bible? The result, Mark McEntire argues, would be a more mature theology that would enable us to respond more realistically and creatively to the unprecedented challenges of the present age.
Mark McEntire continues the story begun in Portraits of a Mature God, extending his narrative beyond the conclusion of the Hebrew Bible as Israel and Israel’s God moved into the Hellenistic world. The “narrative” McEntire perceives in the apocryphal literature describes a God protecting and guiding the scattered and persecuted, a God responding to suffering in revolt, and a God disclosing mysteries, yet also hidden in the symbolism of dreams and visions. McEntire here provides a coherent and compelling account of theological perspectives in the writings of Hellenistic Judaism.
How would you describe the Old Testament? Offensive, violent, patriarchal, archaic; difficult, boring, obsolete? Many Christians don’t bother with it anymore. Yet these ancient books were in Jesus’ lifeblood, and they provided the thought-world of those early followers who wrote about him in what became the New Testament. This book challenges those stereotypes of Israel’s Scriptures by exploring their significance in the apostolic writings and by demonstrating the importance of whole books for nuanced interpretation. It takes readers on a tour through four key books before considering the wider issues of interpretation that readers must consider in order to hear God’s Spirit speaking afresh to a range of contemporary concerns, including racism and the environment.
If God created us in his own image, we have more than reciprocated--Voltaire. God is love--1 John 4:8Portraits of God painted with words have ranged from prehistoric conceptions of the Earth Mother to more elaborate sophisticated visions: God as craftsman, a multiple deity, an illusion, one's highest self, the Omega point.... This book presents sixty-some selections, including many fascinating exchanges in the 16th-19th centuries that constitute the main body of modern Western philosophy, religious or otherwise.
In Where is God in the Megilloth? Brittany N. Melton constructs a dialogue among Ruth, Esther, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Songs centred on this question, in an effort to settle the debate about whether God is present or absent in these books. Their juxtaposition in the Hebrew Bible highlights their shared theme of apparent divine absence, but, paradoxically, traces of God’s presence are unearthed as well. By examining various aspects of this theme, including the literary absence of God, divine abandonment, God-talk, allusive language, God’s providence, and divine silence, it becomes clear that the ambiguity of divine presence and absence in the Megilloth presents a significant challenge to current conceptualizations of divine presence and absence in the Hebrew Bible.
"Scott Shauf compares the portrayal of the divine in Acts with portrayals of the divine in other ancient historiographical writings, the latter including Jewish and wider Greco-Roman historiographical traditions. This book explores especially how the divine is represented as involved in history, the nature of divine retribution, the partiality or impartiality of the divine toward different sets of people, and the portrayal of divine control over seemingly purely natural and human events. Acts is shown to be engaging historiographical traditions of the author's own day but also contributing unique historiographical perspectives."--
A dramatic tension confronts every Christian believer and interpreter of Scripture: on the one hand, we encounter images of God commanding and engaging in horrendous violence: one the other hand, we encounter the non-violent teachings and example of Jesus, whose loving, self-sacrificial death and resurrection is held up as the supreme revelation of God’s character in the New Testament. How do we reconcile the tension between these seemingly disparate depictions? Are they even capable of reconciliation? Throughout Christian history, many different answers have been proposed, ranging from the long-rejected explanation that these contrasting depictions are of two entirely different ‘gods’ to recent social and cultural theories of metaphor and narrative representation. The Crucifixion of the Warrior God takes up this dramatic tension and the range of proposed answers in an epic constructive investigation. Over two volumes, renowned theologian and biblical scholar Gregory A. Boyd argues that we must take seriously the full range of Scripture as inspired, including its violent depictions of God. At the same time, we must take just as seriously the absolute centrality of the crucified and risen Christ as the supreme revelation of God. Developing a theological interpretation of Scripture that he labels a “cruciform hermeneutic,” Boyd demonstrates how Scripture’s violent images of God are completely reframed and their violence subverted when they are interpreted through the lens of the cross and resurrection. Indeed, when read through this lens, Boyd argues that these violent depictions can be shown to bear witness to the same self-sacrificial character of God that was supremely revealed on the cross.
In the biblical canon, two books lack any explicit reference to the name of God: Song of Songs and Esther. What is the nature of God as revealed in texts that don't use his name? Exploring the often overlooked theological connections between these two Old Testament books, Chloe T. Sun takes on the challenges of God's absence and explores how we think of God when he is perceived to be silent.
What is God like? Answering this is the great quest of human existence. Because God is so different from us, we struggle to describe him. While doctrinal statements about God certainly have their place in Christian understanding, the Bible more often uses God's actions and roles to help us know him better. Indeed, some of the most helpful insights in Scripture arise when God is compared to something else: a rock, an eagle or a tower. And many "human" metaphors--metaphors taken from the world of actions and relationships--bring us even closer to understanding of God. In Portraits of God, Allan Coppedge suggests we look carefully at God as our Father, Redeemer, King, Judge, Priest and Creator. These portraits taken together give us an understaning of the Holy One for which no single category is adequate. These images work their way through the whole of Scripture. They are the doorway allowing us into the mysteries of God's very being. In Portraits of God, Coppedge offers a comprehensive survey, picturing a God who wants to be known personally and who has profoundly communicated himself. Coppedge finds the inexhaustible nature of God to be one of holiness reflected in and best described by the language of diverse roles. Approaching God in this way transforms us, as churches and individuals, to reflect God's own holy character. This is a book for students, pastors and churchgoers alike. Anyone desiring to know more deeply and wholly the Christian God revealed in the Bible will find in Portraits of God a treasure of scholarship and truth.
The aggression of the biblical God named Yhwh is notorious. Students of theology, the Bible, and the Ancient Near East know that the Hebrew Bible describes Yhwh acting destructively against his client country, Israel, and against its kings. But is Yhwh uniquely vengeful, or was he just one among other, similarly ferocious patron gods? To answer this question, Collin Cornell compares royal biblical psalms with memorial inscriptions. He finds that the Bible shares deep theological and literary commonalities with comparable texts from Israel's ancient neighbours. The centrepiece of both traditions is the intense mutual loyalty of gods and kings. In the event that the king's monument and legacy comes to harm, gods avenge their individual royal protégé. In the face of political inexpedience, kings honour their individual divine benefactor.
